Politis (2000) On Archaeological Praxis, Gender Bias and Indigenous Peoples ...

07 Politis (JB/D) 15/5/01 1:25 pm Page 90
Journal of Social Archaeology ARTICLE
Copyright © 2001 SAGE Publications (London, Thousand Oaks, CA and New Delhi)
Vol 1(1): 90–107 [1469-6053(200106)1:1;90–107;017624]
On archaeological praxis, gender bias and

indigenous peoples in South America
GUSTAVO POLITIS
CONICET/Universidad Nacional del Centro de la Provincia de Buenos Aires,
Argentina
ABSTRACT
This article discusses several aspects of the practice of archaeology in
South America, specifically in the Southern Cone. Examining two key
issues: the socio-political context of knowledge production and the pos-
itioning of South American archaeology in relation to its European and
North American counterparts. Three cases that bridge these issues are
examined. First, Gero’s argument for gender bias in the recording of
field data, based in her ethnographic work during the excavation of the
Paleondian site of Arroyo Seco 2. Second, the reburial of the human
remains of Inakayal (an Indian chief who died at the end of the nine-
teenth century). Third, the excavation of the Inca mummies of the
Llullaillaco peak in the southern Andes. The first is a critique on
methodological grounds, the second demonstrates that Argentinean
archaeology cannot free itself from its colonial past and the third illus-
trates the ethical dimension of archaeological praxis, specifically the
complex interaction between local and foreign archaeologists.
KEY WORDS
archaeological socio-politics ● gender archaeology ● reburial issues
● South America
90
Politis On archaeological praxis, gender bias and indigenous peoples in South America 91
■ INTRODUCTION
A few years ago I asked a Catalonian archaeologist who was giving lectures
in various places in Argentina what his impression of archaeology in the
country was. He answered dryly: ‘quite colonized’. His answer triggered in
my mind some issues which have been discussed briefly, but on the whole
insufficiently, on previous occasions. What is the relationship between the
peripheral position of Argentina and other South American countries in a
global context and the way archaeological knowledge is produced, legiti-
mated, reproduced and disseminated? Is South American archaeology, like
other archaeologies, a science exposed to the influence of scholars from
other continents where the production of theoretical knowledge is far more
significant, or is it essentially a ‘colonized’ science practiced by subordinated
third-world archaeologists? Is the archaeological knowledge produced in
the region by both foreign and local archaeologists relevant to the people
of the South American countries, especially indigenous and mestizo com-
munities (which, in some countries, such as Bolivia and Peru, are the major-
ity of the population) or, on the contrary, is it a bourgeois practice, an
exercise to satisfy the intellectual curiosity of a few, and a latter-day deriva-
tion of colonial domination? Does archaeology still retain the colonial spirit
of its origins?
These questions are still in my mind and are far from resolved. However,
I believe that a reflection on aspects of the practice of archaeology in the
region will help in understanding some of the processes related to two key
issues: the socio-political context of the production of knowledge about the
past in the region, and the extent to which South American archaeology is
subordinate to its European and North American counterparts.
In the format of a single article I have not attempted, or claimed to have
achieved, any degree of comprehensive coverage. My aim is merely to high-
light the issues outlined above in order to better understand the contem-
porary praxis of archaeology in South America, and especially in the
Southern Cone. These concerns are neither new nor exclusive to the region.
Outside archaeology, such issues have been widely discussed by Bourdieu
in numerous papers (among many others 1976, 1990, 1992), and within the
field of archaeology several books and articles have been illuminating (e.g.
Gero et al., 1983; Ucko, 1983; Trigger, 1984; Shanks and Tilley, 1987a;
Layton, 1989a, 1989b). Within this debate it has been argued that an aca-
demic archaeology that interprets past material culture is political action
which ‘operates as part of a wider cultural discourse serving to reproduce
the relationship between the dominant and the dominated’ (Shanks and
Tilley, 1987b: 188). Some have even gone further, and a more extreme pos-
ition claims that, since science is an instrument of domination, ‘scientific’
(positivist-processual) archaeologists can be seen as agents of imperial
92 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)
hegemony (Miller and Tilley, 1984). In South America, with few exceptions
(e.g. Funari, 1992; Politis, 1995; Gnecco, 1999; McGuire and Navarrete,
1999), there is an absence of reflection on these issues. These exceptions
clearly demonstrate, however, that archaeological praxis within South
America must be understood within its global, ‘postmodern’ context. As
such, and understanding the postmodern condition as a globalizing cultural
project which reflects the logic of the multinational phase of capitalism
(Jameson, 1984), it has been proposed that the praxis of scientific archae-
ology has been converted into a hegemonic exercise in accordance with this
globalizing project (Gnecco, 1999: 23).
■ SOME ASPECTS OF THE RECENT TRAJECTORY OF

ARCHAEOLOGY IN SOUTH AMERICA
Firstly, I would like to explain why I have defined the ‘region of study’ of
this paper as South America. I have chosen to discuss this area in prefer-
ence to the more common unit of analysis – Latin America – because, in
spite of some similarities in their Spanish backgrounds and idiosyncratic
characteristics, there are marked differences between these two regions
with respect to the issues discussed in this paper. The historical develop-
ment of the archaeology of Central America varies considerably from that
of South America, and the role played by US archaeology in the former is
significantly different to its role in the latter. Obviously, contemporary
South American archaeology is a product of its historical development,
especially over the last 50 years, when, after the Second World War, the US
extended its economic and political hegemony over South America.
In archaeology, this situation brought with it the consolidation of the
culture-history paradigm, over the kulturkreise school, as well as some sur-
viving mechanical diffusionists, and a variety of direct historical approaches
(Politis, 1995). This process of consolidation of the North American culture-
history paradigm has to be seen within the context of the way the region
was incorporated into political and economic dependence on the USA, as
well as its capacity for organizing, systemizing and giving meaning to previ-
ously dispersed groups of data. In general, the process of expansion of the
culture-history paradigm has to be understood within the context of the
transference of ideas and models from the centre to the periphery. In practi-
cal terms, the manner in which culture-history achieved dominance in the
region was quite simple.
Firstly, North American archaeologists worked intensively in the area
and significantly increased archaeological knowledge of the region within
this conceptual framework. The most notable cases were Gordon Willey
and Wendell Bennett in the Andes, Betty Meggers and Clifford Evans in the
Amazon and Irving Rouse in Venezuela. Secondly, South American archae-

ologists studied in the USA or were heavily exposed to the influence of Anglo-
Saxon intellectual production. They read, discussed and taught the kind of
archaeology that was legitimized in the USA during the post-war years.
Through these mechanisms the culture-historical method of studying the
pre-Hispanic past permeated the archaeology of the region and constituted
the core of the archaeology practiced in South America until the 1970s. At
the end of this decade, the processual influence started to make itself felt:
South American archaeology began to follow the new agenda, and issues
such as adaptation and paleoecology became core questions in research. For
some archaeologists, both foreign and locals, the region was converted into
a giant laboratory for the testing of adaptationist models.
Alternative Marxist approaches (e.g. Lumbreras, 1974) were more
restricted in the archaeology of the 1970s and early 1980s, due, among other
reasons, to the persecution of leftist scientists by military governments
during the period. The current status of what is considered the most refined
expression of Marxist thought in contemporary South American archae-
ology – Latin American social archaeology (one of the very few original
theoretical productions from the region) – is subject to debate. Outside
Latin America it has been viewed positively and valued for its originality
(McGuire, 1991; Patterson, 1994; McGuire and Navarrete, 1999). However,
some critics inside the region take issue with its theoretical structure
(Oyuela-Caycedo et al., 1997), the absence of a methodology (Gnecco,
1995) and its application on an empirical level, basically in the archaeology
of South American hunter-gatherers (Lanata and Borrero, 1999).
During the 1990s archaeologists in South America witnessed the emer-
gence of several research projects, derived from the heterogeneous body of
research programs within the so-called postprocessual approach. The trend
created an interest in themes which had never before been the subject of
scrutiny in the region, such as gender archaeology, ethnicity, the socio-
political context of archaeology, human agency, etc. In accordance with
certain postprocessual propositions, it was assumed that archaeological dis-
course should not be hegemonic, that diversity in research methodologies
should be lauded and that multiple views of the past should be encouraged
and taken into consideration (Hodder, 1999). In the postprocessual agenda
there is an interest in providing visibility to subordinated groups who had
not been systematically considered in archaeological research (see the
publications from the WAC 1 conference, Southampton, 1986, e.g. Gather-
cole and Lowenthal, 1989; Layton, 1989a, 1989b). The work conducted
within gender archaeology and the examination of the relationship between
the rights of indigenous peoples and the practice of contemporary archae-
ology are in accordance with such an agenda.
■ GENDER ARCHAEOLOGY: FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF

THE OBSERVED
Gender archaeology, with its close links to feminist archaeology, is one of

the worldwide hallmarks of the postprocessual endeavor, as postprocessual-
ists established the need to examine variables such as gender in archaeology
(Wylie, 1991). Nonetheless, its application has been limited in South
America, and is basically restricted to North American archaeologists
working in the Andes (e.g. Silverblatt, 1987; Gero, 1991; Hastorf, 1991;
Gero, 1999). South American archaeologists themselves have done virtu-
ally no work in the area. The little that has been done has been oriented
towards the sociology of knowledge (e.g. Bellelli et al., 1994) or to the
identification of the sexual division of labor as represented in dwellings, cer-
emonial spaces and settlement patterns (Oyuela-Caycedo, 1991). Related
fields of knowledge, such as social anthropology, have had a relatively
greater impact and have produced more in-depth studies (e.g. González,
1993; López, 1997).
One of the better-known examples of the application of ideas from
gender archaeology to a South American case study is the ethnographic
work carried out by Joan Gero (1996) on the excavation of Arroyo Seco 2,
a Palaeoindian site located in the Pampas region of Argentina, under the
direction of the author. Gero spent about two weeks in the 1992 fieldwork
season recording the excavation practices of the crew of approximately 20
people who were working on five 2 x 2 m units. Among Gero’s objectives
was the examination of how gender bias can affect archaeological interpre-
tation from the very beginning of the process, from the gathering of basic
archaeological data. She was also interested in examining issues such as
gender and power, as well as hierarchy and objectivity. As such, Gero
sought to establish if the Arroyo Seco 2 field season would provide a case
for the hypothesis that the style of practice of contemporary archaeology is
coded with values and messages (such as objectivity and autonomy) which
enables males to be more successful (Gero, 1996). As the director of the
excavation I agreed to participate in Gero’s project. I also agree with the
idea that fieldwork and excavation are not neutral procedures for recover-
ing the past (Shanks and Tilley, 1987b: 22–3). Almost the entire crew felt
relaxed during the experiment and enjoyed the feeling of being ‘the other’
for a period of two weeks (an experience I strongly recommend to every
ethnographer and ethnoarchaeologist). I should add that the intellectual
honesty and discretion of Gero and her team-mate, Charles Goodwin, made
the whole experience easy and comfortable for us.
In principle I believe that gender bias, as well as other types of bias, have
an effect on excavation practices and hence the collection of data. Unfor-
tunately, the methodological shortcomings of Gero’s project produced
‘bias’ in the results. As expected, Gero concluded that there had been
androcentrism present in the recording process and a reinforcement of male
values, based on two examples. These examples were: firstly, that a male
member of the team produced larger pedestals of earth to support artifacts
than those created by a female member of the team. Supposedly, in this way
the male excavator captured the attention of the director (the author) and
‘deliberately (if unconsciously) advance his data, pushing it – and himself as
its producer – into the limelight of the excavation block’ (Gero, 1996: 269).
According to Gero, this was the outcome of a masculinist style of doing
research: more aggressive, more competitive and more strongly hierarchi-
cal. The second example used was that of a male member of the team who
marked soil stains and other features using a trowel, and mapped with solid
lines, while a female excavator did not mark out features prior to drawing
them, and used broken lines when mapping. This example represents the
‘dichotomous A/Not A logic’ (Gero, 1996). As men mapped with a solid line
they left no room for ambiguity or gradations, presenting archaeological
data in a solid, compacted manner. Contrarily, ‘[w]omen, bombarded by a
gender ideology of femininity, practice a “feminine” science in which intu-
ition and needing to feel that one has gotten it “right” often overwhelm the
politics of advancing one’s practice through the hierarchy of practitioners
competing to produce useful data’ (Gero, 1996: 272).
As I stated above, I am open to the possibility of the existence of gender
bias in any part of the process of archaeological research, but the two
examples presented by Gero to support her conclusions are trivial. There
are two basic problems with Gero’s analysis and hence the force of her con-
clusions. Firstly, over a period of about two weeks, in a group of 20 or more
excavators mapping several times weekly (after passing the plough zone, we
mapped every 5 cm, not every 10 cm as Gero stated) there are a variety of
tendencies that can be noticed regarding different recording techniques.
However, Gero paid no attention to – or at least did not publish – the sta-
tistical representation of her observations. Consequently, it is difficult to tell
whether the differences noticed were statistically relevant with respect to
gender-related practices, or whether they indicate more personal proclivi-
ties. In other words, out of many different examples it is always possible to
find one or two which fit your hypothesis. But, in the present case, how many
men and women exhibited these tendencies? ‘Hard’ statistics were not
required, merely some idea of the proportion of men and women carrying
out activities in more or less the same style. As concerns the first example,
there are additional problems with the observations which affect the final
conclusion: I can guarantee that I, as director of the excavation, was not in
the slightest bit interested in the size of the pedestals. What did capture my
attention was what was on top of the pedestals – the archaeological object.
This leads on to the second problem: there are a number of other socio-
contextual factors which could explain the types of practice noticed by
Gero, but which were not considered in her analysis. For example, excavators
may lack or possess confidence according to the amount of excavation experi-
ence they have (this would be an alternative explanation for the size of the
pedestals or the solid lines on the maps of sediment stains), the stage they are
at in their degree program, whether they are naturally timid or confident
people, and whether they are from a privileged class, educated at a bilingual
school in Buenos Aires, or whether they are from an impoverished back-
ground and educated in a rural college. Obviously, these are also biases which
should be taken into account in the process of production of archaeological
information, but they do not necessarily indicate a gender bias or that such
bias is the prime, unique causal factor. In other words, gender bias clearly
intersects with other types of bias which were not accounted for in Gero’s
analysis. I do not want to appear churlish, but neither myself nor any of the
participants on the excavation (male or female) believe that the examples pro-
vided by Gero indicated an androcentric way of recording data. It seems to
me that these two examples do not uphold the assertion that ‘science is not
sexless, and that scientific practice is itself dominated by masculinist arrange-
ments, modes of interaction and putting forth argument’ (Gero, 1996: 269).
■ INDIGENOUS PEOPLES AND ARCHAEOLOGISTS: UNDER

THE SHADOW OF COLONIALISM
Respect for indigenous rights and wishes in regard to the archaeological

record meshes well with the postprocessual agenda. In this section I
examine some South American examples concerning the relationship
between indigenous peoples and archaeologists, both local and foreign. In
this way I hope to contribute to the understanding of the creation and vali-
dation of archaeological knowledge and to the examination of the ethical
and political dimensions of the practice of archaeology in the region. As
Gnecco (1999) has stated, archaeology must critically reflect on its contem-
porary role if it does not want to lose all legitimacy for the production of
knowledge of the past.
For generations archaeologists have excavated human remains in South
America (and throughout the world) without paying the slightest attention
to the opinions and feelings of indigenous peoples, including the living
descendants of those who were exhumed. Two decades ago the situation
started to change, essentially corresponding to the period in which The
American Indians Against Desecration (AIAD) began their claims for the
reburial of indigenous remains stored in museums and university collec-
tions, and when Australian Aborigines opposed the excavation of burial
sites (Hubert, 1989). Henceforth, indigenous people from several parts of
the world gained recognition for their rights in regards to human remains,
the most important landmarks in this process being The Native American
Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) enacted by the US
National Congress in 1990, and the Federal Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islanders Heritage Protection Act, enacted in Australia in 1984 (see review
in Hubert, 1989, 1992; Fforde, 1997).
In South America the situation is different and relatively backward in
comparison with the USA and Australia. First, it is important to recognize
that dialogue between archaeologists and indigenous peoples in the region
has always been difficult, erratic, distant and basically absent. Tombs, monu-
ments and sacred places were excavated in the name of science without any
consideration for the people culturally and historically related to them
(Mamami Condorí, 1989). Until recently, the tight control under which
indigenous people had been held since the colonial period did not allow
them to react to this situation. They were passive and suffering observers of
how archaeologists treated their dead, who were disinterred and sent to city
museums. In Argentina, as in most countries of South America, the con-
struction of a single nation with only one ‘true’ national identity was con-
sidered imperative to the consolidation of national unity (Slavsky, 1992) and
to the insertion of the country onto the world stage (Barre, 1983). The strat-
egies adopted to achieve this aim in relation to the indigenous population
were multiple: war for political domination, appropriation of lands and
resources, conversion to Catholicism, dismemberment of traditional prac-
tices, cultural alienation, etc. However, indigenous communities resisted for
centuries and in many places kept their traditions alive, which has enabled
them to re-emerge as a political force in the past decades and fight success-
fully for their rights to be recognized. By the early 1980s there were already
two indigenous representatives in Bolivia and one in Brazil, representing
their communities and making their claims heard in parliament (Ontiveros
Yulquila, 1988). The South American indigenous struggle has achieved
important successes, such as Colombia’s new constitution of 1991, which is
a good example of how new legislation can respect cultural diversity.
Although putting the constitution into practice will have to confront the
logical difficulties of the articulation of different cultural categories and cos-
mologies, it is undoubtedly a step forward.
The indigenous voice can be heard increasingly loudly and clearly these
days. Indigenous groups are nowadays in the process of organizing them-
selves and are struggling for their rights (see review in Contreras, 1988),
rights to their lands and resources, to make their own decisions, to maintain
their culture and language, and to dispose of their dead and ancestors in
their own way. The conflict with the archaeologists emerges from this last
point, and the arena of the debate is the argument over the ownership of
archaeological human remains. Of the entire region only Peru, Argentina
and Uruguay have precedents respecting claims for the return of indigenous
humans remains. In other countries, notably those with significant and
varied extant indigenous populations such as Colombia and Brazil, there

has not been a single known case recorded in which an indigenous com-
munity has solicited the return or the reburial of human bones.
In contrast, in Argentina in recent decades a number of claims for
indigenous human remains have been made (see review in Endere, 1998).
Among them, two cases show the complexity of the issue and the erratic
position of archaeologists within it: the reburial of Inakayal, and the Inca
mummies of the Lullaillaco peak.
Inakayal, an Indian chief whose father was Pehuenche and mother was
Tehuelche, lived with his people in northwestern Patagonia. In October 1884
he and another chief called Foyel were taken prisoner when they went to
parley with a National Commander who had located a fort in their land. Their
camps were destroyed, their families were taken prisoner and all of them
were sent on a horrendous trip to the prison of El Tigre in Buenos Aires. The
government subsequently sold their lands to the English Tecka Suderland
Argentine Company (Endere, 1998). Eighteen months after their capture,
the Director of the Museum of La Plata, Dr Francisco Moreno, obtained
permission from the government to give accommodation to Inakayal, Foyel
and their families. Inakayal died in the Museum on 24 September 1888. He
was not buried; his bones, brain, scalp and death mask became part of the
museum collection. His skeleton was displayed in the Anthropological
Galleries of the museum until 1940 when it was stored in the deposit.
On 19 April 1994, ‘The Day of the Aborigine’ in Argentina, the remains
of Inakayal returned to his homeland in a National Air Force airplane and
were buried in the small Patagonian town of Tecka in a mausoleum. The
urn containing the bones was covered by stones in the manner of an indigen-
ous tomb (a ‘chenque’). Direct descendants of Inakayal were present at the
ceremony. The event was made possible by a law proposed by the National
Senator from the Patagonian Province of Chubut, Dr H. Solari Irigoyen,
and was supported by indigenous organizations. The law was approved by
the National Congress in 1991 as number 23,940 and it required the Museum
of La Plata to return the remains of Inakayal to his descendants. The High
Council of La Plata University, to which the Museum is attached, agreed to
return the bones (to do otherwise would have been to infringe the law which
required the devolution), and also paid homage to Chief Inakayal. An
archeologist from the Museum of La Plata also accompanied and took
custody of the urn with the remains from La Plata to Tecka and offered
apologies in the name of the institution to the descendants of Inakayal.
However, this case did not mean that most of the archaeologists and
physical anthropologists of the Museum of La Plata agreed with the return
nor respected the rights of indigenous people in the disposal of their dead.
Only a few years earlier, in 1992, the Academic Council of the Facultad de
Ciencias Naturales de la Universidad de La Plata (to which the Museum
of La Plata is accountable) refused to deliver the remains of another
indigenous chief, citing a legal impediment: the archaeological collections

were public property which belong to the nation and therefore cannot be
claimed as part of the private dominion (Podgorny and Politis, 1992). On
that occasion the indigenous community, ‘Cacique Pincén’, which had made
the claim for the remains, did not have enough lobbying power to force poli-
ticians to help them. However, these claims opened the door for the future
law, as they gained visibility in the press and attracted the attention of the
senator from Chubut.
Even after the enactment of the federal law that obliged the museum to
return the remains of Inakayal, internal debates continued within the
Museum of La Plata. Some archaeologists ardently defended the ‘indivisi-
bility of the collections’ and the legal property rights of the museum over
what was considered to be a part of the museum’s patrimony rather than
remains of deep significance for the Patagonian indigenous communities.
For this group of scientists, the return of Inakayal was a mistake which
would open the gates for the spoliation not only of other human remains,
but also of the entire archaeological collection (thousands of objects col-
lected over the last 120 years). As the reburial of Inakayal was widely
covered by the national press (Clarín, La Nación, Pagina 12, etc.) the
opinion of these scientists took the public stage. At the same time, the local
newspaper, El Día, carried out surveys of people who did not belong to
indigenous groups (most of them from European background) and opinions
in the street. Almost everyone interviewed considered that the remains of
the indigenous chief should be returned to his descendants.
The other occasion on which archaeologists and indigenous people
confronted one another was the famous case of the Llullaillaco mummies.
This example was far more complex as it also involved a foreign archaeol-
ogist, Johan Reinhard, who clashed with local authorities and local archae-
ologists. The whole issue, involving the exhumation of three Inca mummies,
highlights and crosscuts the ethical and political dimension of the practice
of archaeology. Reinhard, well-known for excavating high peak mummies
in the Andes, climbed the Llullaillaco peak with his excavation team and a
young archeologist (a doctoral candidate from the University of Buenos
Aires) as his Argentinean counterpart. Two Argentinean undergraduate
students also participated in the expedition. Until 1995 only nine mummies
had been found in high altitude sites (above 5000 m above sea level), the
first of this kind being the Chachami mummy, found in southern Peru
between 1896 and 1898. The majority of these mummies had been recov-
ered in rescue operations because they had been exposed by natural causes
or looters (see Schobinger, 1999, for a summary). They were isolated and
hazardous finds. The data obtained from these mummies were integrated
into the systematic research on high altitude sites, specifically from the
Inca period, by several researchers (e.g. Hyslop, 1984; Schobinger, 1986).
From 1995 onwards the finds of Inca mummies in high altitude sites have
multiplied as a product of the ad hoc excavations carried out by Reinhard,

first in Peru and later in northwest Argentina. The mummies of the snow
peaks of the Ampato hills, Sara-Sara and Misit, in southern Peru, and Llul-
laillaco in the Argentinean northwest were all excavated in this fashion.
Furthermore, all of these finding were colorfully reported in National Geo-
graphic magazine (Reinhard, 1996; 1998; 1999).
In the case of the most recent finding – the Llullaillaco mummies,
pompously presented as from the highest archaeological site in the world –
there were several problems that were badly dealt with by the director of the
expedition. Firstly, the research team only partially fulfilled the conditions for
legal authorization, since it had provincial permission but not the national
approval required by law, as was clearly stated in the document produced by
a committee organized by the Universidad Nacional of Salta (CEPIHA, Fac-
ultad de Humanidades). This document was signed by professors, graduate
students and undergraduates (Mesa Redonda, 1999) who made a critical
analysis of the condition of the archaeological heritage of Argentina, especi-
ally in Salta Province. This debate took place in November 1999 and was
organized specifically to discuss the ethical implications for archaeologists of
these types of finds. A number of recommendations were made to improve
preservation and management of the heritage, emphasizing the need for the
political authorities to take into account the rights and interests of the local
community and indigenous peoples and for them to participate in the
management of the cultural heritage as stipulated in the protective legislation.
Secondly, Reinhard and his team did not solicit the opinions of the local
indigenous people. As a result, the Kolla indigenous community ‘Los
Airampos’ filed a suit, alleging that their rights had been violated by the
finding and excavation of three Inca mummies in Llullaillaco. The Kollas
consider themselves living descendants of the inhabitants of the Kollasuyo
during the Inca period. The peak sanctuary where the mummies were found
is considered a sacred site in the indigenous territory and the mummies are
understood to be part of the communities (Curtoni and Endere, 2000). They
claimed that they had the right to be consulted before the mummies were
removed. The federal attorney rejected the claims, alleging that the
archaeological expedition had fulfilled the legal requirements to carry out
the research as it had been authorized by the provincial government. The
provincial authorities, the national and the Catholic universities, the
members of the expedition, as well as the indigenous community, became
embroiled in a dispute to decide the conditions under which the mummies
should be studied and stored. Even though the political authorities and
many local archaeologists were absent from the round table discussions, the
recommendations adopted by its members are a cornerstone in the struggle
for recognition of indigenous peoples’ rights to their cultural heritage in
Argentina. For the first time a group of archaeologists agreed upon and
admitted the legitimacy of their claims (Curtoni and Endere, 2000).
Thirdly, the find was first published in National Geographic and por-
trayed the kind of archaeology that we would rather forget, focusing exclu-
sively on impressive and spectacular finds. As is usual for this publication
the text is scientifically poor but the pictures are attractive and of excellent
quality. Disappointingly, some of the images were truly pathetic and gave
the public a false view of archaeology, for example, two members of the
expedition holding one of their collaborators by his feet while he is trying
to rescue a mummy from the bottom of a pit (which was certainly dug from
a more orthodox excavation position).
There are some points in favor of Reinhard. Looters have discovered
other mummies, such as those found on Mount Quehuar in Peru, some of
which were blown up in the attempt to get the body and their goods away
quickly. This evidence of plunder ‘only strengthens our resolve to excavate
as many high-altitude sites as possible in advance of thieves’ (Reinhard,
1998: 134). It is fair to say that South American governments are generally
bad at protecting their cultural heritage. Cultural policies are far more
declarative than effective, and the practical possibilities of controlling
access to archaeological Andean peak sites is remote. A further point to
take into account is that the weather conditions in which an excavation
would have to be carried out at more than 5000 m above sea level are
extremely bad, and the time in which to complete the excavation would be
correspondingly short. As a result, archaeologists who work at high altitude
sites need special training and technical procedures that are quick and
effective. A third point is that the quality and quantity of data that can be
obtained from these mummies, given their excellent state of preservation,
could be highly significant. However, none of these three points justifies the
excavation of a place considered by contemporary historically related
indigenous people living in the area as a sacred site. Nor is it an excuse for
not complying fully with the authorization procedures or carrying out more
careful excavations. The other exhumations of mummies carried out by
Reinhard in the Peruvian Andes, also sponsored by the National Geo-
graphic Society, and also colorfully displayed in the pages of the Society
magazine (Reinhard, 1996; 1998), followed the same style. Essentially, the
sites were approached in order to exhume the mummies and their
accompanying funerary goods. It is unclear how the team conducted other
necessary archaeological recording or how they excavated the tombs. The
piles of dirt surrounding a few days of excavation shown in the figure on
pages 134–5 (Reinhard, 1998) is, at least, suggestive. Finally, in the case of
the Llullaillaco mummies, interaction with local archaeologists was very
limited, being restricted to a single graduate student and a pair of under-
graduate students. The rest of the archaeological community was essen-
tially ignored, especially the archaeologists and anthropologists from the
Universidad Nacional of Salta, in the province were the mummies were
found.
■ FINAL CONSIDERATIONS
The cases summarized above raise points relevant to several of the issues
stated at the beginning of the paper. Gero’s paper underused the potential
of ethnographic research to contribute to the understanding of gender bias
in the various steps of the archeological process. Gero could be correct in
her assertions that a ‘masculinist’ style of doing archaeology is considered
to be the standard, and as such there exists androcentric bias in the gener-
ation of archeological data. However, there are many examples that show
that this supposedly more aggressive, more competitive and more self-
confident ‘masculinist’ style is not the exclusive patrimony of men. It could
be argued that many women in archaeology act in exactly this way. What
are the proportions of men and women performing this supposedly ‘mas-
culinist’ style? As such, Gero appears to make a too easy correlation
between the specific activities of men and women (in this case, one man and
one woman) and the maintenance of an admittedly existent masculinist
system. Furthermore, the case presented by Gero does not demonstrate in
a conclusive manner what she is asserting, fundamentally due to the lack of
representativity in the employment of one example out of a universe of
examples which could exemplify the opposite point, and because other
biases are not taken into account.
Gero’s article highlights how quickly and uncritically certain ideas get into
the archaeological literature and gain a level of legitimacy in the production
of archaeological theory. Gero’s article, which in spite of its originality has,
at the least, methodological shortcomings, is mentioned in a recent book on
archaeological method and theory (Hodder, 1999: 69) as a clear-cut example
of data description and gender bias. In Hodder’s book, this example is sep-
arated from the main text (in a text box), and the prestige of the author and
the importance of the publishing house will ensure that it has an extensive
circulation and important impact. Similarly, various seminars given by Gero
in North America and Europe have afforded the case a high profile in the
context of the current discussion of gender bias in archaeology. I have the
right to suppose that this rapid inclusion in theoretical discussion, high visi-
bility in a respected text and the circulation of her results in various academic
circles have been favored by Gero’s origins in the Anglo-Saxon world.
The case of Inakayal involved local archaeologists and clearly indicates
that several of them, including physical anthropologists, still consider
human remains, even those with close, ‘scientifically’ proven living descen-
dants, as an indivisible part of a museum’s collection. Over 25 years ago, the
Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies (AIAS) proposed that the
remains of Truganini (the so-called ‘last Tasmanian’) be disposed of
immediately in accordance with her own wishes and those of her descen-
dants, because ‘[i]t was felt that the case of Truganini, a known historical
person, is an exceptional one and that the moral issue involved overrides
any other consideration’ (Ucko, 1975: 7).
In the case of Inakayal, which has similar characteristics, one would have
expected a comparable reaction from the archaeological and anthropologi-
cal staff of the Museum of La Plata, but incredibly, even today, at least in
Argentina, archaeology cannot free itself from its colonial background and
the over-expressed respect for ‘the other’ remains on a declarative level. Of
course, advances have been made in this respect, but there is still no con-
sensus concerning what to do with the claims of indigenous people. Further-
more, South American archaeologists have recently been consulted in cases
of ‘re-ethnicity’: subordinated groups who claim to be the descendants of
indigenous groups that have been considered extinct (for example, the
Charrúas in Uruguay, or the Huarpes in Mendoza, Argentina). In none of
these cases have the archaeologists been able to express particularly enlight-
ened opinions, due as much to their inability to deal with living populations
as to the conceptual and operational problems that ethnic identification
carries with it (Jones, 1997).
The split between archaeologists and indigenous groups has not always
been the case in Latin America. For an important stretch of time a number
of archaeologists – notably Julio Tello in Peru and Manuel Gamio in Mexico
– were active supporters of political movements which promoted the
recuperation of the dignity and political rights of Latin American indigen-
ous groups. In spite of criticisms that this movement was a product of non-
Indians and encouraged integration with Western society (Barre, 1983), it
nonetheless signified an advance in the recovery of indigenous rights.
Archaeology had a central role in this process as a tool for the transform-
ation of social reality in favor of repressed and subordinated groups. Lam-
entably, this political commitment has become increasingly diluted, and,
with few exceptions, contemporary South American archaeologists are
passive observers of the struggles of the many indigenous groups for the
recovery of their rights and the revindication of their culture.
The case of the mummies of the Llullaillaco reveals that colonial practices
still exist in the manner in which some archaeologists from the central, devel-
oped countries conduct research in South America. Instead of considering
Reinhard as a foreign scientist sensitive to indigenous claims and involved
with local archaeology in a symmetrical relation, which he patently is not, we
can perhaps see him more clearly in the light of the title that National Geo-
graphic EXPLORER gave to the video that they made of his research – The
Mummy Hunters. Ultimately, the fact that the finding was first published in
National Geographic is not an innocent coincidence, as it has been demon-
strated elsewhere (Gero and Root, 1991) that this magazine has been suc-
cessfully promoting the hegemony of Western culture and Western
imperialism. The aftertaste of colonialism is still present in the archaeology
of South America and involves both foreign and local researchers.
The three cases cited must also be understood in the context of the
complex set of relationships between local and foreign archaeologies, or, as
Trigger (1984) proposed, national and imperialist archaeologies, although
these groups do not always coincide nor are they always equivalent. It is fair
to say that at least in recent decades the way foreign (above all North
American) archaeologists have carried out their research in South America
is based on respect for local colleagues, with the interaction between them
symmetrical in nature. True cooperative research projects proliferate in
several South American countries. This is, however, at the operational level
of the practice of archaeology. In the theoretical and conceptual dimensions
the status of South American archaeology remains one of subordination in
respect to its North American and European counterparts. It is clear that
through their publications archaeologists from the Anglo-Saxon world exert
a disproportionate influence on research around the world (Trigger, 1984).
This is not only a result of the greater numbers of archaeologists working
in these countries, the enormous differences in resources allocated to
research and the consequently greater possibilities for theoretical produc-
tion. As I have argued elsewhere (Politis, 1995), this is the cultural coun-
terpart of the economic and political hegemony that the US has exercised
over South America, especially since the Second World War.
The archaeology of South America finds itself with a dual role. On one
side, with very few exceptions, its theoretical development is subordinated
to the central, developed countries. It follows a little (sometimes a great
deal) behind and with less sophistication the agenda put forward in the
Anglo-Saxon world. This can also be understood through the difference
that exists between the field of production (in the central countries) and the
field of reception (in the peripheral countries) which creates significant dys-
function (Bourdieu, 1990). However, South American archaeology cannot
escape the essence of its origin which manifests itself in the form of a tool
for the domination of indigenous groups through the appropriation of a
socially legitimized discourse on their past. Archaeology retains and con-
trols objects from the past of indigenous societies, not only because of the
value they hold as sources of information, but also for their symbolic
content which is co-opted in the development of the Western hegemonic
globalizing model.
Acknowledgements
To Ben Alberti for his useful comments and help with the translation, Maria Luz
Endere, Rafael Curtoni and Victoria Pedrotta for additional information. This
paper is a product of the INCUAPA project (Investigaciones Arqueológicas y Pale-
ontológicas del Cuaternario Pampeano) sponsored by the Universidad Nacional del
Centro de la Provincia. de Buenos Aires and by the Agencia Nacional de Promo-
ción Científica y Tecnològica.
References
Barre, M.C. (1983) Ideologías Indigenistas y Movimientos Indios. México: Siglo XXI
Editores.
Bellelli, C., M. Berón and V. Scheinsohn (1994) ‘Gender and Science: Demystifying
Argentine Archeology’, in M.C. Nelson, S.M. Nelson and A. Wylie (eds) Equity
Issues for Women in Archaeology. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological
Association (Archaeological Papers 5).
Bourdieu, P. (1976) ‘Le Champs Scientifique’, Actes de la Reserche en Sciences
Sociales 2–3: 88–104.
Bourdieu, P. (1990) ‘Les Conditions Sociales de la Circulacion Internationale des
Idées’, Romanitische Zeitschrift fur Literaturgeschichte/Cahiers d’historie des
littératures romanes 14(1–2): 1–10.
Bourdieu, P. (1992) ‘Deux Impérialismes de l’Universel’, in C. Fauré and T. Bishop
(eds) L’Amérique des Francais, pp. 149–55. Paris: Ed. Francois Bourin.
Contreras, J., ed. (1988) La Cara India, la Cruz del 92. Identidad Etnica y Movimien-
tos Campesinos. Madrid: Editorial Revolución.
Curtoni, R. and M.L. Endere (2000) Patrimionio, Arqueología y Participación:
Acerca de la Noción de Paisaje Arqueológico. Paper presented at the Segunda
Reunion Internacional de Teoría Arqueológica. Olavarría, 4–7 October 2000.
Endere, M.L. (1998) Collections of Indigenous Human Remains in Argentina: The
Issue of Claiming a National Heritage. Masters dissertation. Institute of Archae-
ology. University College London.
Fforde, C. (1997) Controlling the Dead: An Analysis of the Collecting and Repatria-
tion of Aboriginal Humans Remains. Unpublished PhD thesis. University of
Southampton.
Funari, P. (1992) ‘Arqueología en Brasil: Política y Academia en la Encrucijada’, in
G. Politis (ed.) Arqueología en America Latina Hoy, pp. 57–69. Bogotá: Fondo
de Promoción de la Cultura del Banco Popular.
Gathercole, P. and D. Lowenthal (1989) The Politics of the Past. London: Unwin
Hyman.
Gero, J. (1991) ‘Genderlithics: Women’s Roles in Stone Tool Production’, in JM.
Gero and M.W. Conkey (eds), Engendering Archaeology: Women and Prehis-
tory, pp. 163–93. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Gero, J. (1996) ‘Archaeological Practice and Gendered Encounters with Field Data’,
in R. Wright (ed.) Gender and Archaeology, pp. 251–80. Philadelphia: University
of Pennsylvania Press.
Gero, J. (1999) ‘La Iconografía Recuay y el Estudio de Género’, Gaceta Arque-
ológica Andina 25: 23–44.
Gero, J., D. Lacy and M. Blackey, eds (1983) The Socio-Politics of Archaeology.
Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press.
Gero, J. and D. Root (1991) ‘Public Presentations and Private Concerns: Archae-
ology in the Pages of National Geographic’, in P. Gathercole and D. Lowenthal
(eds) The Politics of the Past, pp. 19–37. One World Archaeology Series. London:
Unwin-Hyman.
Gnecco, C. (1995) ‘Praxis Científica en la Periferia: Notas Para una Historia Social
de la Arqueología Colombiana’, Revista Española de Antropología Americana
25: 9–22.
Gnecco, C. (1999) Multivocalidad Historica. Hacia una Cartografia Poscolonial de

la Arqueología. Santa Fé de Bogotá: Universidad de los Andes.
González, S. (1993) Mujeres y Relaciones de Género en la Antropología Latino-
americana. México: El Colegio de México.
Hastorf, C. (1991) ‘Gender, Space and Food in Prehistory’, in J. Gero and M.W.
Conkey (eds) Engendering Archaeology, pp. 132–62. Oxford: Blackwell.
Hodder, I. (1999) The Archaeological Process. An Introduction. Oxford: Black-
well.
Hubert, J. (1989) ‘A Proper Place for the Dead: A Critical Review of the “Rebur-
ial” Issue’, in R. Layton (ed.) Conflict in the Archaelogy of Living Traditions,
pp. 131–66. London: Unwin Hyman.
Hubert, J. (1992) ‘Dry Bones or Living Ancestors? Conflictive Perception of Life,
Death and the Universe’, International Journal of Cultural Property 1: 105–27.
Hyslop, J. (1984) The Inka Road System. New York: Academic Press.
Jameson, F. (1984) ‘Postmodernism or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism’, New
Left Review 146: 53–92.
Jones, S. (1997) The Archaeology of Ethnicity: Constructing Identities in the Past and
Present. London: Routledge.
Lanata, J.L. and L. Borrero (1999) ‘The Archaeology of Hunter-Gatherers in South
America: Recent History and New Directions’, in G. Politis and B. Alberti (eds)
Archaeology in Latin America, pp. 76–89. London: Routledge.
Layton, R., ed. (1989a) Who Needs the Past? Indigenous Values and Archaeology.
London: Unwin Hyman.
Layton, R. (1989b) Conflict in the Archaeology of Living Traditions. London: Unwin
Hyman.
López, M. del P. (1997) ‘Antropología y Género en Colombia’, Informes
Antropológicos 9: 11–40.
Lumbreras, L. (1974) La Arqueología como Ciencia Social. Lima.
Mamami Condorí, C. (1989) ‘History and Prehistory in Bolivia: What about the
Indians?’, in R. Layton (ed.) Conflict in the Archaeology of Living Traditions,
pp. 46–59. London: Unwin Hyman.
McGuire, R. (1991) Marxist Archaeology. New York: Academic Press.
McGuire, R. and R. Navarrete (1999) ‘Entre Motocicletas y Fusiles: Las Arque-
ologías Radicales Anglosajona e Hispana’, Revista do Museu de Arquelogia e
Etnologia, Suplemento 3: 181–99.
Mesa Redonda (1999) ‘Hallazgos Arqueológicos, Entre la Ciencia y la Identidad’,
Andes 10: 245–8.
Miller, D. and C. Tilley (1984) ‘Ideology, Power and Prehistory: An Introduction’,
in D. Miller and C. Tilley (eds) Ideology, Power and Prehistory, pp. 1–16. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ontiveros Yulquila, A. (1988) ‘Hacia la Consolidación de la Indianidad’, in J. Con-
treras (ed.) La Cara India, la Cruz del 92. Identidad Etnica y Movimientos Indios,
pp. 185–94. Madrid: Editorial Revolución.
Oyuela-Caycedo, A. (1991) ‘Ideology and Structure of Gender Spaces: The Case of
the Kaggaba Indians’, in D. Walde and N. Willows (eds) The Archaeology of
Gender, pp. 327–35. Chacmool, Alberta: The Archaeological Association of the
University of Calgary.
Oyuela-Caycedo, A., A. Anaya, C.G. Elera and L.M. Valdez (1997) ‘Social
Archaeology in Latin America? Comments to T.C. Patterson’, American

Antiquity 62(2): 365–74.
Patterson, T.C. (1994) ‘Social Archaeology in Latin America: An appreciation’,
American Antiquity 53: 1–7.
Podgorny I. and G. Politis (1992) ‘Que Sucedió en la Historia? Los esqueletos
araucanos del Museo de La Plata y la Conquista del Desierto’, Arqueología Con-
temporánea 3: 73–9.
Politis, G. (1995) ‘The Socio-Politics of the Development of Archaeology in His-
panic South America’, in P. Ucko (ed.) Theory in Archaeology: A World Per-
spective, pp. 197–235. London: Routledge.
Reinhard, J. (1996) ‘Peru’s Ice Maidens. Unwrapping the Secrets’, National Geo-
graphic 189 (6): 64–89.
Reinhard, J. (1998) ‘Research Update: New Inca Mummies’, National Geographic
194 (1): 128–35.
Reinhard, J. (1999) ‘A 6,700 metros Niños Incas Sacrificados Quedaron Congelados
en el Tiempo’, National Geographic (edición en español) 195 (5): 36–55.
Schobinger, J. (1986) ‘La Red de Santuarios de Alta Montaña en el Contisuyo y el
Collasuyo: Evaluación General, Problemas Interpretativos’, Comechimgonia.
Numero Especial: El Imperio Inka 297–317.
Schobinger, J. (1999) ‘Los Santuarios de Altura Incaicos y el Aconcagua: Aspectos
Generales Interpretativos’, Relaciones 24: 7–28
Silverblatt, I. (1987) Moon, Sun and Witches. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
Slavsky, L. (1992) ‘Los Indígenas y la Sociedad Nacional. Apuntes sobre Políticas
Indigenistas en la Argentina’, in A. Balazote and J. Radovich (eds) La Prob-
lemática Indígena. Estudios Antropológicos sobre Pueblos Indígenas en
Argentina, pp. 67–79. Buenos Aires: Centro Editor de América Latina.
Shanks, M. and C. Tilley (1987a) Social Theory and Archaeology. Cambridge: Polity
Press.
Shanks, M. and C. Tilley (1987b) Re-Constructing Archaeology: Theory and Practice.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Trigger, B. (1984) ‘Alternative Archaeologies: Nationalist, Colonialist, Imperialist’,
Man 19: 355–370.
Ucko, P. (1975) ‘Review of AIAS activities. 1974’, AIAS Newsletter 3: 6–17.
Ucko, P. (1983) ‘Australian Academic Archaeology: Aboriginal Transformation of
its Aims and Practices’, Australian Archaeology 16: 11–26.
Wylie, A. (1991) ‘The Interplay of Evidential Constraints and Political Interests:
Recent Archaeological Research on Gender’, American Antiquity 57: 15–35.
GUSTAVO POLITIS is currently a Researcher at CONICET (Argentina)

and Professor at the Universidad del Centro y Universidad de La Plata. He
has published some 70 articles and is author of three books. His research
interests are the archaeology of hunter-gatherers in South America,
ethnoarchaeology of Amazonian hunter-gatherers, the history of archae-
ology in South America and archaeological theory.
[email: gpolitis@museo.fcnym.unlp.edu.ar]

Politis (2000) On Archaeological Praxis, Gender Bias and Indigenous Peoples ...

Caricato da

Informazioni sul documento

Descrizione originale:

Titolo originale

Copyright

Formati disponibili

Condividi questo documento

Condividi o incorpora il documento

Opzioni di condivisione

Hai trovato utile questo documento?

Questo contenuto è inappropriato?

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

Politis (2000) On Archaeological Praxis, Gender Bias and Indigenous Peoples ...

Caricato da

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

07 Politis (JB/D) 15/5/01 1:25 pm Page 90

Journal of Social Archaeology ARTICLE

On archaeological praxis, gender bias and

92 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

■ SOME ASPECTS OF THE RECENT TRAJECTORY OF

Amazon and Irving Rouse in Venezuela. Secondly, South American archae-

94 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

■ GENDER ARCHAEOLOGY: FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF

Gender archaeology, with its close links to feminist archaeology, is one of

96 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

■ INDIGENOUS PEOPLES AND ARCHAEOLOGISTS: UNDER

Respect for indigenous rights and wishes in regard to the archaeological

98 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

varied extant indigenous populations such as Colombia and Brazil, there

indigenous chief, citing a legal impediment: the archaeological collections

100 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

multiplied as a product of the ad hoc excavations carried out by Reinhard,

102 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

104 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

106 Journal of Social Archaeology 1(1)

Gnecco, C. (1999) Multivocalidad Historica. Hacia una Cartografia Poscolonial de

Archaeology in Latin America? Comments to T.C. Patterson’, American

GUSTAVO POLITIS is currently a Researcher at CONICET (Argentina)

Potrebbero piacerti anche